Habits
by Jaganashi
Summary: What's a fox to do, when given the opportunity to exercise old habits? Enjoy himself, of course. Light shortfic. No pairings.


(A/N: This was an exercise in writing scenes with no dialog. Obviously, it's still one of my weaker points. I hope that it's still enjoyable to read!)

**Habits**

The woods were treacherous, filled with claws and fangs and perils without faces. The darkness rose and fell as if the forest itself had breath. Some of the trees were aggressively carnivorous while yet others merely laid in wait, swollen with deadly poisons like ripe, sweet fruit. The creatures who inhabited this dangerous place were fiercely protective of it, stalking one another with predatory eyes that would flash with menace, then fade into the trees like lightning bugs in the night. Leaves rustled without wind, wings brushed against bark, and claws would scrape into the soil. The dark energy was thick and foreboding, serving as a warning for any who would dare trespass through the land.

It had been but child's play for Kurama. The legendary thief emerged from the forest line unscathed, appearing as if he were some ethereal apparition that had been at home among such shadows and whispers of death.

The wards that greeted him were more of a challenge, yet even still, they could not deter the fox from his prize. His fascination with wards, amulets, and charms was perhaps due to the fact that they were an ever changing, ever learning skill, with new techniques being crafted by new practitioners through the generations. It was a knowledge that was both ancient and new, but never stagnant.

One of the benefits of merging into a human body had been the all too intimate familiarization of reiki. One of the most daunting of challenges in subverting or unraveling a ward is to understand the intricacies of its design. The vast majority of the wards found in the human world were only as powerful as the demon's lack of understanding them. Of course, some skill in ward reversal was still a necessity.

Instinctively, Kurama had taken advantage of his exposure to what many thought of as a lesser energy. Resenting it at first, he had eventually come to accept it as an opportunity to broaden his experience and sharpen his skills of adaptation. Even now that his aura had returned to something more Youkai, hidden within a shroud of humanity, he found that he could manipulate the very human wards that barred his path. The fact that it had taken the cunning fox more than a few moments was a sheer testament to the powerful psychic who placed them.

The perils of coming across this particular human unexpectedly was not lost to Kurama, yet he weighed the reward to be worth the risk.

The next obstacle were wards of a more modern nature. Wires and relays, connected to sensors on the doors and windows. It was a very simplistic set-up, compared to the high tech security systems that he had observed within the larger cities. Museums and banks were tantalizingly well-protected, and Kurama often found himself falling into old habits of observation and calculation while on otherwise innocent outings with Shiori. Though he had utter confidence in his skill, the technology was too incriminating and the stakes were too high for the acquisition of some trinket and the thrill of the game. He would have to settle for the current, less challenging venture.

Once inside, the kitsune sparsely wasted time. While his target was not immediately obvious, he was certain that it laid somewhere within the room. There were few treasures in this world or any other that could be hidden from the once Youko Kurama, and this particular item was no exception.

Indeed, within minutes, a small box had been discovered from a hiding place, warded and locked. A paltry defense, as the now open case was handled by expertly nimble hands. In very little time, the contents were replaced by a single blooming rose before the undecorative box was resealed and returned to its original location.

With speed and grace, Kurama slipped from the room through the disarmed window. A pair of sensors were readjusted with adept fingers, measured and precise in their movements. Using their original fastenings, he returned the foolishly amateurish protective measures to their previous locations. There would be no signs of his entry point, no signs of disturbance. It would be as if he had slipped in with the moonlight, then vanished just as softly.

Yusuke glanced up as Kurama approached the bus station from the forest line. They had missed the nine o'clock, and the black haired teen was less than thrilled to rely on the final bus of the night. Kurama had been convincing, however, assuring the detective that he would need no more than an hour for an errand. The kitsune had then disappeared before any specific questions could be asked.

A dark brow arched in question, unable to gather anything from the calm and serene body language of his friend. For all the world, it seemed as if Kurama had just strolled up from a library rather than the ghastly loom of the dark forest. "Okay, spill it fox-boy. What was so damned important that I looked like an idiot, waving off the bus driver to sit alone here in bumfuk?"

Kurama merely smiled, soft but radiating self-satisfaction. From his pocket, he nonchalantly withdrew the coveted treasure.

"Whoa! The new Mega-Death Samurai Fighter III! I got shot down right away, when I asked to borrow it. How the hell did you get the old hag to fork it over?"

The kitsune hummed, his pleased smile still in place. "When I asked if I could borrow it for a while, I believe Genkai's exact words were, _just try it_." His grin turned playful, peeking into something feral. "So I did."

Yusuke burst into a fit of laughter, clasping his friend's shoulder. "I guess old habits really do die hard."


End file.
